


the pack

by nymja



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Tumblr fill, jon is just a sad boy, spoilers for 8x5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: There’s a young woman–girl, really–with dark hair leaning down on it, her hands clenching its mane. He can’t make out her features, and she’s raced past him before he can even try.He knows it’s foolish, but there’s something about the rider that reminds him of Arya.





	the pack

He’s bent the knee, using his position as leverage to lift up a large piece of debris. He thought he’d heard screams underneath it. 

But all that’s underneath is a skeleton, charred and flickering with melted metal that makes him think it was someone who used to be a soldier. He looks away, letting his hold on the stone fall. Jon thought he knew exhaustion, what it meant to see horror and death. When he closes his eyes, when he tries to sleep, he used to see what was left of Viserion, inhaling blue flames and getting ready to exhale them-

It’s a different dragon he’ll see now.

There’s more screams–of anger, of pain, of grief. They’re everywhere, a different sort of bell ringing, and Jon stands in the middle of the carnage, watching smoke curl up into the air. He doesn’t need to ask what he’s done, what he’s been complicit in.

A woman screams as she holds her child nearby.

…he knows what he’s done.

Jon’s made his way through another block of destruction, helping where he can but mainly just paying witness to the carnage, when he hears a horse. He doesn’t think anything of it, knowing that some of their soldiers are still exiting the city. Also knowing that some of the horses no longer have riders and are left to roam where they will.

But as the horse rides by, the color catches his attention. It’s white, the only thing still white in this city. Jon turns, facing it from his position in an alley.

There’s a young woman–girl, really–with dark hair leaning down on it, her hands clenching its mane. He can’t make out her features, and she’s raced past him before he can even try. 

He knows it’s foolish, but there’s something about the rider that reminds him of Arya. Jon closes his eyes, numbly reaching for the clasp of his collar. He undoes it, then stares at the ash-streaked direwolves molded into the metal.

He looks up into the darkened sky. 

The lone wolf dies.   
And Jon just wants to go home.


End file.
